Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 23, 1915, Page 7

The Profws_ions } oS PEPIPIOPEPNEIOLE Chiropractor J. Q. SCARBOROUGH, "Lady in Attendance hes Building Between Park uditorium. OFFICE HOURS. 1:30 to § p. m. :30 a. M. ! 7:00 to 8:00 p. m.. ion and Examination Free. on :tdlence Phone 240 Black 0 . VIA. D. C. ogugnclh’\rovmuc. Over Post Hours 8 to 12. 8. m. and 2. nd 7 to 8 P. W | duates 8nd Ex-Faculty mem- of the Palmer Behool of ratic. Consultation and ysia free at office. H. D. MENDENHALL ‘1.,TING ENGINEERS 2.215 Drane Buillding pate Land mxaminations =né Desigus marthwork Speclaitsts, nce phoue, 278 Black. phove, 278 Blue. bR. SARAH E. WHEELER OSTEOPATE Aouex. boor South of Firm National Bank Lakeland, Florida DR. W. R. GROOVER LYSICIAN AND SURGEON 5 and 4. Kentucky Butldins Lakeland, Florida DR. W. B. MOON YSICIAN AND SURGEON Telephone 350 9to 11, 2 to 4, evenings 7 to 8 Over Postoffice Lakeland, Florida Law Office of A, X. ERICKSON t Buil Bryanf dmxn 1. C E. W. THOMSON ptary, Depositions sttendéd. Rogers Edwin Spencer, Jr. R0GERS & SPENCER Attorneys &t Law, Bryant Building eland, Florida B H. HARNLY Bstate, Live Stock aud General AUCTIONEER Sales ONAL REALTY AUCTION CO. ction Lot sales a Specialty mondo Bidg. Lakeland, Fla EPPES TUCKER, JB. LAWYER ndo Bldg., Lakeland, Florida KELSEY mnon* ATTORNEY AT LA Ofice In Munn Bullding Lakeland Florida oms 2-3, Skipper Bullding Over Postofioe .......- j. 8. PRESTON, LAWYER Upstairs East of Court House BARTOW, FLA. nation of Titles and Res tate Law' & Speciaity FRANK H. THOMPSON NOTARY PUBLIC Dickson Building te phone 402. Res. 312 Red | attention to dratting lessl papers. lage licenses and abstracts turnished l;mm WATSON, M. D. ones: Office 35?:' :u.u'.lfl Red Lakeland, Floride I H N ATTORNEY AT LAW Dickson Building tice in all courts. img Jocated and contested latablished tu July, 1900 IR W. 8. IRVIN DENTIST 14 and 15 Kentucky Building Room 8 Elliston Building P. 0. Box 605 Lakeland, Florida ICK? $8 eland Samitarium Hanna HARDIN BLD | | ——— A iIN CRINE'S SHADOW | five years, an ——— By 1IRENE BEATRICE PROCTOR. - Chapman. | “Work at lagt The man spoke in manner deftone, He was known ho uttereq the w, a satisfied ords showed a Wearied, stolid un- in the modest boarg. ing house ag Cecil Wayne, byt thrgt‘ Was not his name, Nor were the | ::arded face appendages becoming to | m. Hg Wore them as might 5 ma & disguise, becauge he had a deenl secret to conceal, because he feare: that after two Years someone mlghti 8top him opn the street and | sternly: g ;Youharo Ronald Warne!" or he was a man hunted, despised tabooed, hig S ! him fifty times a :lr:r:.ured e almost in hndim; in of western Canada, back to his nati hoped, for life hel him, no prog; “The past After sojourning, { a desolate part he had stolen | country to die, he | d no comfort lorfi s;Fts. no ambition | —dim gulf!" | | bitterly, [ hvpvdglu fo‘r‘zt'(b.'es;ltled } never can. Work—work at last! | may help me to keep remorse at bay. | at least in my waking hours!" i [ HR?na!d _\\‘arne. alias Cecil W { How had it come about that thi: | had two names? | memory expl ! thoughts w | lyne!; S man | > His quick haunlings ained all too vividly. His | : 1 ent back two years, he| . @ roving and dissolute artist, in love | With a humble but beautiful girl, the daughter of the towerman on the Cen- tral railroad near Bridgeton, For the first time in his roving Ilfe} | Ronald Warne had loved. The sweet, | innocent maiden he had wooed, Elsie | i Barker, knew nothing of his drinking habit. Under the spell of her fas- form. Then oue night, one dreadtul ather in the little ng old man, on his :hit duty at the tower | st of the big railroad with some friends having an hour to B€, an easy-ge f way' to go on one mile e bridge. He was and the old man k\l"- “The Past—Dim Gulf! Forget!” | Hoped to spare, accompanied them to the drink- ing place they were bound for. His weak nature soon succumbed to the influence of the unfamiliar liquor. When it was time for him to go on active duty Mr. Barker was in a sod- den state of intoxication. Warne grew grave and self-re-| proachful as he noted the result of | his recklessness. He feared what EI- sie might think of him if she discov- ered this flagrant dereliction from | manhood and respect. The lowermnn! was in no condition for duty, yet some- one must take the signal pust for the night, and Ronald called one of his friends aside as an idea came to his mind. “See here.” he said, *I count on you | tress, | the direction of ¢ | bound. He shou ay, yet face anq | cination he had honestly tried to re- | [ | met. to keep the old man away from the public street and home till he is so- ber.” : “But what about the tower?” was asked. ‘ “1 will take his place,” explaived Warne. “I've spent one or two nights | there with him, and I understand thei routine fairly well. There's only two | night trains to look out for. I'll attend to that, and no one will know about | ‘(l\\‘nmo hung his head with shame | and remorse as he hastened to the | tower, He felt abased, degraded. How- | ever, he made a vow mever to touch a | drop of liquor again He reached | the tower and sat down, re tvnlvurc{ng. his solemn resolution by meditating | with sincere contrition over hie past eless, useless life ci‘:’lmin passed at 10:15. He gave it the clear signal. A special was list ed for an hour later. It was m-bP held until a west train mrl_nrncl\ed Warne continued his reflections. He would be well out of the xtrueut pre- dicament with the morning Tbe;n for a new life. Alas! As the ; fects of the liquor he bad taken e\- gan to wear away a dull lethargy mlt:l::korh::]l.alfl_\" retribution at the most critical juncture in his life— ! | hen'l:':: with a mighty start, a sl;lrp shock that Warne awoke. IHis n;: blanched with terror as bl e tower clock—it was aft glanced at th er midnight! “The special!” gasped t —— Camel's Working Life. tor serious work at Camels are At for ser - d thelr strength begind decline st twenty-five Years, :ol‘i they live for thirty-five and forty years. | of the opera bouse. ! m: | Warne, trembiing in every 1tmb. Then came the dim echoes of a commotion In the direction of the bridge, ham- mering, voices, and among these lat- ter accents of excitement and of dis- Hatless, contused, Warne ran down from the tower. A man rushed from he bridge, towpward s ted to a person scud- d;:: by him from the opposite direc- “Over a hundred kill 1 add, d killed—it’s a fright- After that for nearly a week Warne, a fugitive, half mad, haunted with constant terror and remorse, scarce knew what he did. He had slept while a train dashing by unsignaled, had gone down to wreck and ruin! Oh! | he could figure it all out! a collision at the bridge, and his the blame, his the sinful, wicked fault! Then Canada, to hide far away from friends and the law, for was he not a murderer? And Elsie! an anguishing memory in his heart of hearts, Coward, craven, poltroon, Ronald Warne called himself a score of times because he did not g0 back and face the music like a man. Then a rest- less longing for old scenes and back to a city where he was little known. All the finer artistic instincts of his nature were blunted and inert. Now, after idleness, abject poverty, he had secured work, It was cheap, unworthy labor for a man of his former attainments—en- larging photographs in the crayon line—but it occupied him, it kept the wolf from the door. It was dull, monotonous work, but there was even more than he could do. The lonely room he occupied was & safe hiding place to which his work | was sent regularly from the firm em- ploying him, One day there was a shock. In the dusk of early evening a velled lady was urhered into the poor excuse for tudio by the landlady. Ir. Wayne,” spoke the latter, his is a young lady who sent some work to your firm and you have it. She is to leave the city tomerrow, and wishes to hurry up the order, if possible.” A great gasp broke from the art- ist's lips as his visitor cast aside her | veil “It is a picture of a relative,” she began, and then—"Oh, Ronald!” s, fate had thus strangely thrown irker across his path again, for it was she—the same sweet-faced maiden of old, but richly attired. In her gentle tones was manifest inter- est, the warmth of genuine friendship, perhaps something more. She stood rooted, spellbound. Then a pitying look crossed her face. He hung his head, self-condemned. She advanced and took his hand. “Ronald,” she said, and her tones stirred his inmost heart—"what does it all mean?” What did it mean?—crime! murder! He shrank from her, abject and crushed. In broken tones he qua- vered his miserable story. “Oh, why did you not come to me?” she cried. “It was mot your | fault. The wreck was on the road that crosses ours just beyond the bridge, ;nnd was caused by one of their own broken rails. Our trains went through all right, and even the truth about my father was not learned. Poor, dear friend, what have you mnot suf- fered!” Innocent! a great load was lifted from Ronald Warne's mind. Like a child he sank to a chair, like a child he wept. “Father is no longer with the road,” went on Elsie. “Are you not glad— we inherited quite a fortune, and— and—" She paused there. Then their eyes Her face was pleading, tell-tale. When she went away from the dim studio, she left a kiss upon his lips, and in his heart—hope! Makes Chickens Grow. Experiments have been conducted for some time by an English expert in the electrification of small chick- ens, to discover whether the current exercised any influence on their growth. It is reported that the results have been startling. Not only has the mortality among very young chick- ens been greatly decreased, but the birds grow nearly twice as fast, when stimulated by the particular electrie apparatus, by the use of which the food bill is cut in two. Special inten- sive houses are provided for the birds, and the electricity is applied by means of a combined high-frequency and pos- itive apparatus, through a large cofl of heavily insulated wire wound round each house in the form of a spiral. This produces a large and intense elec- tric field. While the current is on, the birds are highly charged with electricity, but appear entirely uncon- scious of any unusual effect. The cur- rent is turned on for ten minutes every hour from 7 a. m. tin 6 p. m, | and stimulates the chickens, enabling ed them to acquire largely increas: weight from a given quantity of food. Their Longest Run. “yYour show was the worst we have ever had here,” said the manager of the Hicksville Opera house, as he handed the manager of the Fly-By- Night company his share of the box receipts. oq":hu'- queer,” said the manager of the company. “Why, when we it jayed in Chicago we bad the longol :un in the history of the eity. “p'm sorry,” replied the manager “Sorry about what?” demanded the ager of the company. .;o:ry the audience abandomed the HOME FOLKS ARE BEST nw;latbn That Came to Girl About to Elope. By JOANNA SINGLE. The cool stillness of the September evening came into the little upper room where Drusilla sat huddled on the floor with both arms on the win- dow sill while she waited for the dusk to become darkness. She hardly breathed, though she knew that her door was locked, that she was sup- posed to have gone to bed with a slight headache, and that her parents would not disturb her. It was a task for her heart to keep on feeling hot and angry enmough so that she could leave them without a word and slip off to marry a man—any man—but least of all one like Henry Main, whom they had done their best to keep away from her. They told her she was too young to know. Worse than that, they wanted her to marry Max just because she had been en- gaged to him before Henry came into the neighborhood for his summer's vacation, At thought of Max she rose, smoothed down her blue serge skirt and put on her hat. Max had gone too far when he ordered her abso- lutely not to speak to the other man. She. did not like jealousy. He would see now that he had made a mistake. If he had just asked her not to—but | ho, even then she could not have helped loving the older, more sophis- ticated man, with his tender, master- ful ways. She did not like to go to him in this way. Finally she heard the little clock on the shelf do irs strike 10, and though she was shivering with fear and the misery of leaving her own little room, she slipped into the hall, her shoes in her hand. She waited, heard her father's deep breathing from the open room, and then slipped down the back stairs to the kitchen and out into the yard. There was no moon, and Drusilla, child as she still was, shrank from going alone in the dark through the fleld to the bit of wood where he would be waiting for her. Max was always prowling about, since his farm was neighboring, and might Waited for Dusk to Become Darkness. come upon them. Now the slender girl stole about the barn where old Beauty, the mare, thrust out her head and whinnied softly for attention. 1 Drusie stopped a moment %o lay her face against the kindly-old creature, and then passed through the .orchard, trembling at every step, would cry, or whether she would just look gray and old as she had done when she saw that her daughter was Aismissing Max, As she came to the bit of pasture between orchard and wood, she sud- denly remembered Henry, 'and the magnetic half-hypnotism of him numbed her senses and made ber for- get all but him. He would take care of her; he loved her; they would go to the city and real life would begin for her. Then she recalled her big, bluff, blue-eyed lover and his angry conm- tempt for the other man, his injus- tice, his almost violence. As if she couldn’t tell a good man from a bad one. What right had he to forbid her to see any one she liked? By this, now fearless, she was en- tering the wood path where a little farther on was the big tree where Henry was waiting, and where under some bushes waited a suitcase with a few things she had taken out there, one by one, during the last few days. She almost laughed to herwelf to think she had reuached the place with- out somehow meeting Max—he bhad | been almost omnipresent the last few | weeks, although she would not speak {to him. Henry had gone back to the | city, and even now no ome was sup- |gosed to know that he was driving | over for her from a neighboring town, | trom which they would' later take a i night train. She was glad she had | not wet Max. [ Onoce safe in the trees she gave a | little low call like a quail and waited {for an answer; but recelving called again, and then listemed. What Flat on the ground under the brush | chase,” replied the maanger of the the girl lay. orrified | se —Pittsburgh Chronicle. he b pora hou i e it wondering | whether in the morning her mother | ‘Wwith fear and suspense. The voices 'were louder, and the men came nearer —she bad put her hands over her ears, but took them away now and deliberately listened. The first tone she recognized was Max's voice, and despite herself a great relief and sense of safety crept over her. At least nothing dreadful could happen with Max about. “I'll be policeman, spy or anything else when it comes to her safety and happiness, you dog! She doesn’t have to marry me; I don’t want her to un- less she wants me more than she seems to, but at least I have put you out of commission! You're not even a firstclass scoundrel—just a cheap sneak! Do you suppose it took me long to get your. record looked up? ‘What about your being fired by Mat- tox & Co? What did it cost your , beople to buy them off from prose cuting you?” Something inside Drusie stopped. She loved honesty. The men had | come 80 close that she might almost . have touched them, and she saw that ‘Mu held the other man by his col- ! lar, and that suddenly he broke away | and almed a dlow at his captor. In a moment the two were fighting | desperately, crashing into the bushes, Henry Main cursing, She was afraid they would tread upon her, and slipped up and hid behind a tree trunk. She wanted to call for help, she wanted to stop them, but she dared not move. They might hurt each other—he might—hurt Max. Then she knew where her heart was. Why didn't Max speak? The thrashing about stopped, and peering about, she saw dimly that one man lay on the earth and that the other knelt upon him. To her infinfte rellet it was Max who spoke. “Now, you get out of here, and it you want a decent home life go and try to win back the wife you abused | until she divorced you, and be a father to the boy you'ré not fit to have! But you let my girl alone! She is mine, and when you're out of the way she’ll come to her senses. Now, you can tell me where she is pretty confounded quick! 1 know you came here to meet her, and it would be llke you to let her be frightened somewhere in the dark waiting for you!” “Let me up and I'll get out of here!” Max let him rise, and in an instant he was running, crashing off through the brush, Drusie found her voice—the dark was now a terror to her, “Max! Max!" ‘and loud, and Max answered her. He came toward her, and she went trem- bling to meet him. “Are you—all right, Drusie?” Suddenly she went to him, putting ‘both her hands on his arm. “Take me home,” she sald, break- ing down and crying and sobbing. “Take me home!” He put a firm arm about her and lead her from the wood ‘and across the pasture, but he said nothing about loving her. - The un-! real, the dream of the man who had gone left her mind, and she saw how close she had been—not to a great danger to herself, but to the calamity ; of losing Max—if indeed she had not already lost him. | “Drusie,” he sald at length, “I don't want a wife who doesn’'t want me. ‘When you Lave made up your mind you can send for me and I will take your decision, But what I do want to know is whether you have seen enough tonight to make you sure you don't want—that fellow. Do you?" She shivered, “You know I—hate him,” she breathed. “You know—I must have been crasy! You know 1 have never really wanted anybody but you! You know I want you to forgive me!” As they came to the barn old Beauty put out her head again, and Max laughed and turning to Drusie took her in his arms. “Home 1is best, isn't it? Even if home folks are, common and plain. But they love you, girl!” As they came toward the house the girl's father put his gray head from the window of his room. “Who's there?” he demanded bellig- | erently, Max answered: | *“Only Max,” he sald quietly, “I coaxed Drusie out a couple of hours ago. It took us a long time to make up. Sorry I'm bringing her in so late. Bhe's all right.” Drusie knew that her father's grunt was a grunt of deep joy. She knew be would sleep that night. (Copyright, 1912, bv Assoclated Literary Press.) l Meerschaum, Meerschzum mines in Nemlau have been worked for 2,000 years it {s claim- , and the process Is simple. The mines, which at one time reached from Kabe to Mihalitch, on the sea of Mar- | omu, are concentrated around the city of Keki-Sehr, and give employment to | some 5000 miners. The mines are worked In the most primitive manner by a foreman and two to five work- mon with picks. The depths of the pits vary greatly, and depend upon the depths at which a reddish-brown earth is met, which is the first indication of the existence of magnesite. Sometimes this red earth fs found only a few yards beneath the surface, but or- dinarily at a depth of twenty yards, often forty, and even sixty. In this layer of red earth meerschaum Is found, disseminated in nuggets of ir- regular shape. The size of these rare- ly exceeds twelve to sixteen cublc inches, the greater part are the size States, the latter buying only the fin- — —e the Berlln are cleaned about i | i : Get Your Coupons in the Great Yoting Contest at the Hub. This is the only Gents’ Furnishing Store in Town giv- ing Votes with Purchases of Goods Our _ Spring Line Is Coming in Daity ol See OQur Windows ! They reflect the Superb Stock with ’ which our Store is filled. | The Hu THE HOME OF tiart Schaffner and Marx Good CI JOS. LeVAY Her call was clear | ¥ Lot o] i The Financial Crisis Over " We are now in shape togive you the be netit of our Low Kxpenses, Let us wire your House and save you money, Lower Insur- ance, Cleanliness and Convenience are i the results, T. L. CARDWELL Phone 397 With Lakeland Sheet Metal Works R EEREEEEE ELECTRIC . IT WILL PAY YOU TO ; CONSULT US ON THE ELECTRIC WIRING IN YOUR HOUSE OR STORE We Are Electrical Experts FLORIDA ELECTRICSMACHINERY Co THE ELECTRIC STORE Phone 46 Kibler Hotel Bldg. ) ELECTRIC Must Little Homeless Children Suffer In Florida? WE DO NOT BELIEVE that the good people of Flor- ida realize that there are right now in our State Hundreds of litde children in real need—some absolutely homeless— that just must be cared for. JIIALIAT R eRE LECTRIC We feel sure—that they do not know that there are hun- dreds of worthy mothers in Florida who are just struggling to keep their little ones alive—and at home. We just cannot believe—that with these facts true—and every orphanage in Florida crowded to the doors—thet the people of Florida will let our great work which has cared for 850 of these little ones this year alone—go down for lack of funds to keep it up. Your immediate help—is greatly needed—right now—Please send what you can to-day—to R. V. Covington, Treasurer of The Children’s Home Society of Florida Florida's Greatest Charity 361 St. James Bldg. JACKSONVILLE, FLA.